I forgot I was wearing a blue Polo shirt and khakis when I walked into Best Buy last night. Long story short, I think I may be their new assistant manager.
I think I originally read something similar to this off of some random person’s status. Thanks random person.
There is a general consensus that our current age of electronic innovations help make the world a better place. I think in most cases they do, but there are always those little tweaks that need to take place along the way, and without those tweaks these innovations don’t always help.
At work they recently renovated the restrooms and installed a whole new row of electronic self-flushing toilets. The simple fact that these exist in the first place is a salute to the laziness of human race. It’s baffling to me that there are some people that view pushing down a handle too much work after they have finished using the restroom facilities. So to help enable these lazy people, someone developed a toilet that flushes for you . . . even when you don’t want it too.
I first time I found myself sitting on one of this new technologically advanced seats, I got a bit more than I expected. I moved from sitting upright to slouching over to take the iconic “thinker” position – flush. I reached out to touch the toilet paper – flush. I sneezed – flush. I threw my hands in the air in a “what the hell” gesture – flush. I was like a flushing announcement to everyone in the room that much more was going on in my stall than was actually going on. I even started holding my breath and holding perfectly still to limit the flush happy sensor.
By the time I finished, that damn toilet had flushed at least nine times in three minutes. I hadn’t wasted that much water since I was 10 and discovered you could lay out long rolled out piece of toilet paper. Then place one end of the paper into the toilet and flush. I’d laugh hysterically as the paper got sucked into the pot, kind of like it was sucking down a giant flat spaghetti noodle. I even got one of our cats chase it a few times. I even got it to almost dive head first in the toilet once trying to catch the paper.
The point being that these things that are supposed to help don’t always do that, and sometimes they can make things a little worse.
A few years ago my sister told me about a friend of hers. They were hanging out at a club one night and her friend when to the restroom to freshen up. Well as her friend leaned forward to look into the mirror to touch up her lipstick her heard a short buzzing noise. She stood upright and looked from side to side. There was nothing, and no one was in the room with her. So she leaned forward again to continue her primping, and sure enough the buzzing noise happens again. She looks around again, still nothing.
This little situation keeps happening for the remainder of the time she’s in the restroom, and finally, after clearing up any smudges and smears that may have occurred as she had been dancing she turned around to leave and there stuck to the wall was the buzzing culprit, an electronic paper towel dispenser. Every time she leaned forward her backside set off the sensor and it would spit out a piece of paper towel. The dispensed towel was all the way to the floor and starting to pile up by the time she turned around.
She rushed out, found my sister, and report to her that, and I quote, “My fat ass kept setting off the paper towels.” She was already concerned about the size of her derriere, and this experience only helped to reinforce the belief that it was much bigger than it actually was, thus aiding in the lowering of her self-esteem.
Now even though my ass has never signaled to a paper towel dispenser that I need a sheet as I bent over the sink to wash my hands, I can see how I might take it a bit personally. And now thanks to that type of experience, technology has aided humanity to create the, “Does this sink make by butt look big?” conversation . . . A conversation I never would have imagined possible.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: tweaks, toilet flushing, electronic paper towel dispenser, and does this sink make my butt look big.
Copyright © 2012 Richard Timothy
I don’t know about you, but when I think Disney, the first thing that always comes to mind… “Jedi training”. Ok fine, truth is I’ve never connected Jedi’s to Disney in my entire life… that is until yesterday. I came across a little news blurb about an event that happened at the Jedi Training Academy at Disneyland (Tomorrowland) that was just, well, so strong in the force that I couldn’t help but Smirk about it.
So apparently this Jedi Training Academy is a live-action show where volunteers, kids ages 4 to 12, are randomly selected from the audience to become Padawans, aka Jedi’s in training, aka the little ones who have yet to take off the training wheels from their “force” filled bicycle of life. To those Star Wars purists who may feel a twinge of rage as the complete and utter blatant disregard for true Padawan selection, just remember it’s for the kids and it is Disney, so it will never be a true representation of reality… especially when that reality is completely made up.
The audience selected Padawans are taken on stage where they don the Padawan dirt colored robe and begin to train with a “Jedi Master”. As an audience member, aka the kids not selected to go on stage or the parents to the kid either not selected to go on stage or to one of the kids on stage, you get to sit and watch the little people in their brown robes recite the sacred Jedi Oath.
But wait! That’s not all! You also get to stare in amazement as these kids are trained by a “true” Jedi Master in “ancient battle techniques” using their light sabers. Ok, now I’ll admit watching a bunch of little kids run around on stage trying to whack the other Padawans on stage is a plastic light saber just reeks of comedic value… like the four year olds at a dance recital, there is not telling what the outcome will be, but you know you are going to laugh.
So after the getting geared up, after the Oath, and after the light saber training finally comes the conflict, a disturbance in the force. Followed by a cameo by the man in black himself… no, the other man in black, not the original man in black. I just can’t imagine a bunch of 4 to 12 year olds getting all that excited about seeing a Johnny Cash look alike, although for the record I’m pretty sure he could have beaten Vader down. Anyway, so Darth shows up leading a bunch of Stormtroopers.
This beings the climax of the show, where one of the newly Oathed and Trained Padawans gets the honor of facing off with the Lord or the Dark Side. Sounds a little daunting doesn’t it? Well earlier this year as the battle was reaching its peak; a young aspiring Padawan Sariah Gallego was selected to battle Darth Vader on the stage in front of everyone. She walked straight up to the intimidating Dark Lord and as they stood face to face, the faithful Padawan dropped to one knee and pledged her allegiance to the Dark Lord. (There is also a video of this exchange available, click here.)
According to the news blurb the young and now former Padawan was then promptly escorted off stage. I can only hope she kept yelling, “Die you rebel scum!” as she was pulled off stage. Ah, there is nothing like placing an unscripted child into a controlled Disney environment to give you a nice refreshing splash of reality. Personally, I think the force is really rather strong with that one.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: Jedi Training Academy, kneeling before Darth Vader, and Fairy Vader.
© Richard Timothy 2011
There has always been something inherently entertaining to me about the dogma marquee outside places of worship. Sometimes they are inspiring, other times they are anything but, some get judgmental or fear based, and once in a while absolutely priceless, much like a four year old trying to tell you something they consider to be very, very serious, but end up botching it so badly that all you can do is laugh.
Some of my favorite’s that I’ve personally been witness to were gems like, “The best form of birth control, close your legs.” I saw that one when I was living in Tacoma, Washington. There was a church right across the street from the apartment I was living in and the preacher was constantly putting up random sayings like that.
Another one I remember is, “Heaven isn’t too far away.” I did wonder if they realized they were quoting the lyrics of and 80s hair band that, sadly, also gave the world the unfortunate hit Cherry Pie. I would say it is safe to assume they did not.
Then there are times when these little signs feel compelled to begin pointing the finger of judgment, and this marquee text finger happens to point at the church across the street. The pictures below come from a blog that I visit from time to time called Status Viatoris, the musings of a gal from the Britain living in Italy. The images document a little church sign conversation between a Catholic church and a Presbyterian church focusing on the dog dogma. I got a good chuckle out of it, enough so that I’d like to share it with all of you. I hope you enjoy this borrowed Smirk as much as I did.
Catholic Church Sign
All dogs go to heaven.
Presbyterian Church Sign
Only humans go to heaven. Read the bible.
Catholic Church Sign
God loves all his creations, dogs included.
Presbyterian Church Sign
Dogs don’t have souls. This is not open for debate.
Catholic Church Sign
Catholic dogs go to heaven. Presbyterian dogs can talk to their pastor.
Presbyterian Church Sign
Converting to Catholicism does not magically grant your dog a soul.
Catholic Church Sign
Free dog souls with conversion.
Presbyterian Church Sign
Dogs are animals. There aren’t any rocks in heaven either.
Catholic Church Sign
All rocks go to heaven.
Can I get an amen?
Image Sources:
Status Viatoris web site and Google Images, keywords: angel dog.
© Richard Timothy 2011
I’m not sure why, but this holiday poem has stuck with me over the years. I believe it was originally from a Mad Magazine that my oldest brother treasured back in the early 80s, but I’m not 100% sure. All I can tell you for certain is that this is a borrowed Smirk, and not something of my own devising. Is it truly mad? Well, let’s just say for the record that I’m about 72% sure it was from the magazine. So please enjoy this Mad Holiday Poem:
‘Twas the night after Christmas and all though the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
For one had indulged in a tumbler of scotch,
Another smoked cigarettes as he kept watch.
One had used saccharine to sweeten her sherry,
Some swallowed red dye from a maraschino cherry.
A few crumbs of bacon were found were they’d dropped,
A feast had been eaten round some spilled diet pop.
Beer was drunk heartily and all went to bed,
By morning the Surgeon General had pronounced them all dead.
And that, as they say, is it. Cheers and I hope you all had a brilliant holiday.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: drunk mouse.
I was reading a blog the other day by a British lady living in Italy with her dog Pooch. The piece I was reading was about her affinity for profanity, which I can relate to with much gusto and curseology… curseitude… some damn word relating to cursing. Now perhaps it’s the adorability of remembering when little kids swear that is keeping me on this profane topic for two Smirks in a row. Also, it may seem a bit odd that someone who has such an appreciation for profanity uses it so little in his blog, and the reason is… beats the hell out of me, it’s just how I’ve chosen to write my Smirks.
The point is this blog post reminded me of a story from years past that happened to my brother while he was working at a scout camp one summer, and I think my UK friends/readers might appreciate this.
My brother Dave spent the summer at a huge Boy Scout summer camp ground where scouts from all over the US would come to spend a week camping and pumping out merit badges like Disney pumps out direct to DVD sequels to their box office feature length originals. To help with the monotony of doing the same thing day after day, the older boys working at the camp got to work at multiple merit badge booths. As it turned out there was a sort of exchange student there for about six weeks helping out. He was from the UK. So there was a certain amount of fascination about him due to his exotic sounding accent.
Well, one day, at the archery booth on kid pulled back the string of his bow with a bit of excitable fervor just as another boy was walking behind him. The boy behind him received a swift elbow to the nose, which resulted in a few screams and a waterfall of blood pouring from the boy’s nose.
As one of the supervisors rushed over to help the boy, they were quickly surrounded by a horde of little scouts, all of which were yelling, “He’s got a bloody nose! He’s got a bloody nose!” Dave was there trying to get the other scouts to calm down and to give the boy some breathing room. As all of this was happening the boy from Britain came walking by and heard the fevered exclamations from all the little scouts about the boy with the bloody nose.
The British boy’s face distorted with confusion when he heard this chant. There was something incredibly wrong about what he was hearing and had to get close enough to see what was going on. As he got closer to the huddled scouts, he carefully looked over them to see the scene that everyone was yelling about. When he saw the boy’s face an expression of relief swept across his own face. Then he announced to everyone within ear shot, in a tone that was a touch chastising for making him worry, “It’s not a bloody nose, it’s a bleeding nose.”
Dave started laughing, which caused the other kids to start laughing as well. Not because they got it, but because they didn’t want anyone to know they didn’t get it. Eventually everyone calmed down as the bleeding nose stopped and soon everyone was back to shooting arrows for their Archery merit badge.
Ah, the diversity of the same language separated by the Atlantic Ocean. To this day, thanks to my brother’s shared account of that experience anytime I hear someone cry out “(He/She) has a bloody nose.” I start smiling, and make sure I inform at least one person it’s technically a bleeding one.
Sometimes it’s the unintentional lessons of others that stick with you the rest of your life… and for me, (pardon the borrowed Izzardism) “That’s just pretty damn cool man.”
So, any foreign word that isn’t really a foreign word story of your own that you’d care to share?
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: bad words, archery merit badge, and confused look.